


Final Goodbyes: The Rewrite

by Engiffyserce



Category: Sly Cooper (Video Games)
Genre: After the fourth game, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Multi, Retconning Sly's terrible attitude, Time Travel, lots of death, lots of love, minor OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 03:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14203905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce
Summary: Do you wonder what your parents felt when they died, Bentley?I do. Do you think they regretted anything in their last moments, or thought why me?I would have asked that–Why me over the next guy?I guess there’s really not an answer for it, really.I wish there was.---In light of the animated series, rewriting 'Final Goodbyes'.





	Final Goodbyes: The Rewrite

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Final Goodbyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3395465) by [Engiffyserce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engiffyserce/pseuds/Engiffyserce). 



> For my sister, and my best friend  
> Bre and Aaren.
> 
> I hope it makes your heart happy!
> 
> Read my other super long, League of Legends fanfictions-A World Apart

_ Do you wonder what your parents felt when they died, Bentley? _

_ I do. Do you think they regretted anything in their last moments, or thought why me? _

_ I would have asked that–Why me over the next guy?  _

_ I guess there’s really not an answer for it, really. _

_ I wish there was. _

 

Waking up had become difficult, especially on morning’s like this. That morning, bones ached and healing skin stung as fabric threads yanked at scabbed edges relentlessly. Dreams had been lucid and full of nightmares of the past, and the sunlight that chased them away was almost as brutal as the monsters it chased away. Everything felt wrong, as it had for weeks, and there was nothing he could do about it except throw the blanket over his head in a feeble attempt to stop the heavy pounding in his head. He groaned, rolling over and away from the slatted windows.

Paris had a funny way of welcoming a lost soul back into her cold arms, he thought miserably. Unlike most of his life, Sly Cooper was uninterested in getting out of bed for a day’s work. If he were honest with himself, he’d never been a morning man in the first place. Sleep schedules were always shifted to during the morning and early afternoon, and nowhere close to the stroke of midnight with a profession as particular as his.

Sly was a thief of the highest and most honorable kind–a modern-day Robin Hood with a fine taste for art and jewels– and from one of the longest lines of thieves on the planet. Dare he say he was a master thief, and all thieves worked under the gaze of the sweetest and darkest nights, especially one with a reputation far more prestigious than almost all others. And besides, even if a raccoon wasn’t a thief, the night suited them well; the population stereotyped them for being shifty, anyways.

But nowadays, there were no nighttime escapades, no wild and energetic plans to play out, no soft wires underfoot as he slipped from rooftop to rooftop, no gentle hoots of night birds watching Sly trapeze through the crisp air; unfortunately, Sly’s wings had been clipped for an indeterminate amount of time and any motivation, any ambition had left and gone for a long, long time. Now, there was only cheap boxed food and daytime soap operas to keep his pathetic mind occupied. 

“Sly, if you sleep any longer, I’m going to assume you’re in a vegetative state and should be sent off in a body bag,” a familiar voice roused Sly once more. The intruder sounded sour and impatient with him, a common practice most of Sly’s friends seemed have when dealing with him lately. 

“It’s not that late, Bentley,” Sly said with the same sourness, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position. “Besides, it’s not like the television is going far, now is it?” The nastiness of the comment wouldn’t be lost on his best friend, he was sure.

Bentley had been one of two of Sly’s best friend’s for close to fifteen years. After his parents were killed, Bentley had been the reasoning voice keeping him grounded through some of his worst moments. The small turtle was as fearless as the best of them and had stood side by side with Sly no matter what happened, even after being bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Being the brains of their operation, Bentley was always crunching the numbers, always making sure that no plan went too awry. He was possibly the smartest man working the black market. Sly never took it for granted, even if he didn’t always show his appreciation.

The sound of Bentley’s wheelchair crossing the room made Sly wince; he’d never gotten over the botched mission imprisoning his best friend to that chair, even if he didn’t admit it like Murray had. The incident was the reason for the gang’s initial break up and a conditional ire Murray had held onto for almost three years. Sly couldn’t say he didn’t have his own brand of anger in his heart over it. Unlike everyone else. Sly still blamed himself for the mission going to wrong, especially now.

And that wasn’t the only thing that had ended up laying heavy on his mind. Sly’s off-handed and quietly raunchy humored self had dulled over the last year and half. Sheer isolation from the ones he loved had turned him cold to this world. In only a few short years, he had destroyed Clockwerk–a metal monster that had terrorized Sly’s family for generations–chased down the maniacs that tried so desperately to put the demon back together, reclaimed the billions in inheritance from his family’s vault, and spent some time unconditionally loving a woman named Carmelita Fox, but none of that had saved him from his lengthy punishment away from his team.

Within that time, he must have taken for granted the men and women who had given loyalty to him so frugally because the universe tossed him into the deserts of ancient Egypt; without any of them around, no connections nor help to get back to present day, Sly had become incredibly disdainful for the world. There was something uninventive about society to him now that life was so painfully long. At almost twenty six, he feared waking up in the morning just because he had to live another extensively agonizing day.

“It’s almost  _ two _ in the  _ afternoon _ , Sly, and since we have a job to do,” Bentley paused to open the shutters and illuminate the whole room, much to Sly’s displeasure, “there’s no way you’re sleeping through a briefing, no matter what you do afterwards.”

Sly’s ears perked. A job? No way, not after the meeting pertaining to the activity of the gang. It had been voted upon that they wouldn’t be taking up anymore jobs for some time. Nobody wanted to chance losing each other again. After his initial excitement faded, his suspicions settled in like ice water shredding his veins. He doubted this was going to involve him all that much. He’d hold his judgements until the jury was out. Preparing for the worst hurt less than expecting the best.

“We? I thought I was banned from any plan, heist, mission, holdup, stake out, or fun other activities from here until, and I quote, ‘the end of time’. Unless I’ve been released from my prison sentence, I don’t think I have parol for this, pal,” Sly retorted, easing himself out of bed.

“Consider this a taste for good behavior. Look, the new recruits are trained, Carmelita’s wrapped up at Interpol, and all of our allies have flown in to hear the plan. As much as I hate to admit it, we don’t have the time to wait for your body or our minds to completely heal from the fiasco in Egypt. Those S.O.S’s are piling up faster than we can input into the computer, and the systematic threat is very real for both your sake and ours,” Bentley said. Sly didn’t reply; there was little to say on the matter, anyways. If it was go time, it was going to have to be go time. Not that he minded much.

Slowly, but surely Sly pulled himself together. Stretching, the ache in his body receded to a dull tingling feeling. His side was still sore and only freshly healed after their blunders in ancient Egypt–which much to his chagrin, wasn’t allowed to know what had happened to give him such a nasty scarring. Afterwards, he made his way to the bathroom in the hallway to wash up for the day. When he finally warmed up the shower and undressed to stepped in, the waters calmed the storm now brewing in his mind. As he lathered soap and shampoo into fur, Sly allowed himself to think about why Bentley had been so adamant about the brief involving Sly’s presence.

Three things had happened between the time of Sly’s return and present day:

One, Bentley had been more than a little concerned about the state of the Cooper gang. He, Murry, and Carmelita had become the leaders and core of the crew. Oddly enough, Carmelita was not uncomfortable when Bentley had approached her with the offer of joining full-time. She wouldn’t tell Sly why, but her whole center of attention had shifted within the matter of a year and a half and Interpol had become a warranted thought of the past, even if it was just for now. 

From there, old and new allies like Dimitri, the Panda King, and the Guru had taken to the call for help on this mission. Without spoiling the grave news, Bentley had told them it was a world-wide operation that needed more than a few helping hands. Others, people Sly wasn’t privy to their identity, had willing joined up for whatever ambitions they held close to their hearts. He was sure he’d find out who they were soon, and whether or not he and Bentley were to have a few cross words about the situation.

Bentley hadn’t stopped there, either. He had spoken briefly about needing ‘young blood around here to keep them on their toes’. Sly didn’t agree, but he had let it go in fear of another argument. Murray had been sent out to recruit one week, and came back with four untrained children: a quiet cheetah, a haughty crocodile, a snappy mouse, and Sly’s least favorite, a rough-neck raccoon. 

Secondly, Carmelita had given up her position at Interpol. Although the Lieutenant had promised her seat could never be filled and awaited her return, she had made one thing clear–whatever condition she had set for herself, it wasn’t going to be easy to fulfill.

Ex-Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox had been the designated hand-of-the-law on Sly’s thieving career. She had tailed Sly for as long as he could remember. They’d fallen in love over the years of intimate interactions and high-octane adventures, but ultimately fell apart due to Sly’s carelessness with his choice of lies and slander. Fortunately, she had been more than relieved to see him open his eyes in that hospital bed after some major accident–the same that had left his side covered in electric burns and crawling scars on his left side–and spent more than her fair time of helping him through the painful encounter. Sly took this as a softening of her feelings after his lies, but he was still careful with her; they hadn’t left their relationship in a great place when he was thrown back in time without any way of getting home.

Thirdly, and one Sly thought had to be a setup to get him and his people in trouble once more, a new chapter had been added to the back of the Thievius Raccoonus. Dated back to the times of Slytunkhamen I, an unsavory and cocky pharaoh Sly had the misfortune of meeting once, detailing all the dead dates for all of the ancestors. Even more interesting, eulogies from said deaths were written in part with a partnered date. Some of them were obviously grieving family member giving their last goodbyes to their loved ones. Others of more personal ancestors held accounts of high flying stories and, in the case of the energetic and chivalrous Tennessee ‘Kid’ Cooper, requests to see the Cooper gang once more. There wasn’t anything out of place with what was written, nor was there anything to sound alarm bells.

However, when the Thievius Raccoonus had started to  _ rewrite itself _ , Bentley was deeply concerned. Gentle eulogies turned into sharp and bitter apologizes, last words and requests to see the present-gang again were strangely rushed and prophetic pleas for help. Something was more wrong than it had ever been, and this time, there was no air of mystery to these issues. Time travel was involved and god knows who Penelope sold off the plans to.

The air had been thick with anxiety; even if they wouldn’t speak to Sly on the issue, he knew that they feared him disappearing off the face of the planet if the situation played out wrong, nevermind being stuck somewhere with no way to communicate with them. Bentley had been the voice of reason and assured the team that his was a necessary mission to pursue and partake in, no matter how they felt. If there was a chance of Sly being nonexistent, it was going to be through his lineage being destroyed. If there were no Coopers before, there would certainly be no Coopers now. Varying degrees of reluctance led to the investigation and planning of their second time travelling experience. Sly knew they were trying to wait out his recovery, but he supposed things had climaxed and their time had run out.

Sly didn’t stay wet long for any reason, turning off the water. He stood there only for a moment, contemplating his future; maybe they were right to fear what was ahead of them, and Sly’s luck had run out. Shaking his head, he slipped back out of the standing shower. That way of thinking would lead to his demise faster than gunning for the finish line.

Sly finished his morning routine by drying off with a towel before wrapping up in it, brushing his teeth, and setting off to dress himself accordingly. As usual, his blue uniform sat in the closet untouched. Although this was a new set of clothes, dust had started to settle on the threads and he scrunched his nose. Possibly it had been a little too long since he even thought about thieving, beyond the obvious depression that had sunk into his bones. He dressed quickly–ignoring how snug the shirt had become from the brie cheese and toast he’d come to enjoy so much in the last month─and headed downstairs. Cane, hat, and other accessories had been left for later, if he even got to use them.

Walking downstairs had been easy enough. He descended one flight to ground level where dull claws fell upon hardwood flooring. In their Paris hideout, filled with more bodies than usual, the front door sat to the left down a short corridor and past the mud room. To the right around the corner was a guest room, a patio, a recreation room, a full kitchen and dining area, and a collection of trophies from their expenditures stored in china cabinets. Off the main stairs was a sizable living room with white, circular couches circumferencing a large round table with maps, gadgets, money, and weapons scattered a top it. 

Murray, Bentley, and Carmelita stood around the table, speaking in hushed tones. They seemed nervous about something beyond the job; something Sly couldn’t help but feel was going to be his problem soon. At every window around the room was one of the four recruits. Sly eyed them from right to left: Ami the cheetah, Irwin the crocodile, Maria the mouse, and Rue the raccoon. Each one had been posted as look out. For what exactly, Sly wasn’t sure, but he didn’t argue. Bentley’s suspicion was warranted, given the circumstances. Sat on the couch were the visitors and the allies of the mission. Dimitri, the Panda King, the Guru, a mouse that looked awfully like Maria, and to Sly’s hesitation, Mz Ruby, one of the old Fiendish Five. 

Most eyes didn’t even reach him when he entered the room. Some glances and greetings rang in his ears, mostly from his friends who beckoned him over to join them around the table, but none so important as the stare burning into his soul. Mz Ruby was laser-focused on him, as he was her. It made him more than a little uncomfortable to be in the room with another one of his parent’s murderers. Before he could say anything to her, he was beaten to the punch in only a fashion the Voodoo Priestess could muster.

“Now don’ be startin’ notin’ you can’ finish, boy. I ain’ here for no fightin’, just some mutual peace in th’is world,” Mz Ruby said, voice now weary with age. She sat close to her old friend the Panda King; she was obviously just as hesitant as Sly about the situation. But that didn’t fool him. Nerves meant little in the world they lived in nowadays.

Sly raised a brow, still questioning her motives. The Panda King’s mutual respect had been somewhat of a fluke, but yet it still held strong. With his daughter safe and engaged to a lovely man her father had finally approved of, both atonement for killing Sly’s parents and his ignorance about the tyrant who first tried to marry his daughter had been reached. The Panda King had found peace and humility within himself from both his own kin and Sly; Mz Ruby was still a loose cannon. If she was here as a spy, a double-agent, or a woman with a hard vendetta, this could possibly be the worst mistake the team had ever made. Bentley had made it clear that this mission was more important than any of the rest of them.

“Peace? I thought your peace stayed with corpses and murderers,” Sly retorted, voice challenging her white-flagged comment. He cut a look over at Bentley who was still speaking in hushed tones. Apparently, nobody cared much about what was happening between the two rivals. His attention was pulled back to Mz Ruby by her loud belly laugh.

“Peace is what you make o’it. Besides, I go’in enough leg in all’is as you, Cooper. Them raccoon co’pses don’ sing no more since you’ green friend came callin’ me’in’ere, even if my nephew Irwin ova’ ‘here wasn’ one of yours. You ain’ never feared un’il you hear a Cooper pray for mercy,” she said. The challenge had been met, and the grin on her face was just begging Sly to jump at the chance to start a petty fight. He took one step forward, baring teeth in defense.

“Keep talking, and I swear on my father’s grave-” Sly’s retort was cut short by Bentley’s commanding voice. He snapped his attention to his friend, ready to argue, but was ultimately silenced by the importance of the meeting. Sly begrudgingly came to stand with the three of the around the table.

“Forget all of that. What’s in the past is in the past. Right now, the future of the entire world is in jeopardy and we don’t have time to in-fight like children,” Bentley said, throwing a look in Sly’s direction–obviously showing his disdain for Sly’s distrust in his team–and continued to speak to everyone in the room. “We have a serious issue. As you know, Cooper history is rewriting itself, nevermind disappearing all together, and people across the world are suffering. Major landmarks, inventions, and medical discoveries are fading at a rapid rate. People are dying as we speak and if we don’t move fast, I fear this world is absolutely doomed. We either follow the trail and fix time, or we die trying. Whoever wants this world to be nothing more than a primeval disease pool has to be stopped immediately.”

The Guru spoke, soft and curious to Bentley. Murray answered his question with confidence, “Whoever is going on this mission has given their oath on it. If our deaths fixes this time period, then so be it. We won’t go back to try and save each other, not again at least. Don’t worry teacher, we won’t fail you!” 

Sly was surprised in Murray’s wisdom. The Guru’s concerns about the team putting their needs above the rest were genuinely sorted. They had done it once, or so Murray had said, but it definitely wasn’t something he remembered. Sly’s glanced at the Australian native, uncomfortable with the hard stare he met. Sly had a sinking suspicion that the concern revolved around his own life, rather than anyone else coming along on this journey.

“The van and the time machine have been modified to hold everyone who is travelling, and the time machine has been altered to take us straight to the time period we need to investigate without needing any objects to confirm trajectory. Ami has already input all the dates left within the Thievius Raccoonus,” Bentley continued. Carmelita looked pleased, seeing as she didn’t have to be part of any heists this time around. Sly, on the other hand, was a little disappointed. However, the adventure was enough excitement and problems on its own. With another moment of thought, he understood that just fixing the time stream was trouble already. “We’ll work through the ancestors we know personally. Then we’ll start from the beginning and work our way through as many as we have to until we save the world from a perpetual dark age.”

“Bentley, what is it that you would like us to do until then? Surely you didn’t not ask for our company to speak of things unfortunate without needing our help,” the Panda King spoke, reserved and uncanningly nervous.

“You’re right, I did not. I need all of you to keep eyes on certain areas of the world to make sure things get better or, god forbid, worse. All of you will receive a communication device to contact us with updates. We’ll help you set up and given you instructions to contact us. But other than that, we can only ask all of you to hold on as long as possible until we fix things. If there aren’t anymore questions, I do believe it’s time for us to go our ways for now.” Bentley’s words were final and the meeting concluded with ease. 

There had been no questions. The picture was perfectly clear to everyone in the room; either they worked as a team long enough to solve the infractions, or they were all doomed. Classic, Sly mused.

Each ally had been given equipment and instructions before being set off by the team. Each would watch over an area of the continents; Dimitri-Europe and the west of the Middle East (and once more holding on to the Thievius Raccoonus), the Guru-Australia and the surrounding islands, the Panda King-the orients and the east of the Middle East, Mz Ruby-the Caribbean islands and Africa, and finally the mouse who turned out to be Maria’s sister-both Americas. Before leaving, some had good wishes and pleased welcomes to Sly’s return. Others, mostly his father’s killers, were more neutral about the situation although still courteous. Only the outsider was quick to leave accordingly after her farewells.

Once everyone had left the hideout and the door was locked, silence fell among the group. Each patron of the original gang found themselves a place on the couch. The four young members didn’t leave their post, but each were now uncomfortable with standing within the shared space, Sly noticed. Shifting from side to side and mumbling just out of ear’s reach, he was starting to feel their discomfort become his own. Had they gotten cold feet for their first mission? Or, as Sly had known without even asking, there was something more about this meeting than just a briefing. He steeled himself for the inevitable.

“So,” Sly finally started slowly, eyeing his friends suspiciously, “are we going sit here and wait for Doomsday to come to us, or is it time to bolt?” His prods brought even more discomfort into the air as he watched–in such practiced fashion–the three of them turn to each other with uneasy looks.

“Sly,” Carmelita started hesitantly, “we’ve...been talking and, well, since it hasn’t been too long since you’ve been back–and since you’re still not fully healed and everything–possibly...it’s better for you to sit this one out. Just in case.”

Okay, awesome. His two best friends and his girlfriend were conspiring behind his back. No matter how suspicious he had come to be about the three of them, he had always hoped that he was just being paranoid. Of course, like it had been his whole life, the gut-checks hope brought were so much more painful than paranoia. Still, after all his preparation for the worst, they still wanted to screw him over and leave him out of the world-saving operation they now had to participate in.

Like a hot, searing knife thrown into his back, Sly’s body went rigid and his gentle demeanor was replaced with something dark and angry. “So, my family’s lineage is in trouble, and you three think I should be left here, alone, like a goddamn child, while you risk your lives somewhere I can’t even reach you guys at, even if I  _ wanted  _ to. But of course, I’m supposed to be okay with this, right?” He growled, fur bristling.

“That’s not what we meant! It’s not...that simple-” Carmelita was struggling to continue the conversation.

Only when Murray began to speak did the thought receive explanation. “After what happened in Egypt, I don’t think any of us are ready to see you risk your life again, Sly. This past month has been really hard,” he said, hands gesturing in a frenzy. He was trying to calm down the situation, Sly scoffed to himself, but it wasn’t going to work–not this time.

“And these four are absolutely ready for something like this. Got it, I’m glad to know you’d rather take four kids than me. Not to mention that mangy piece of fur you’re passing as a fucking field man, but I’m sure we’re ignoring that too” Sly retorted, throwing a thumb out at Rue, who was conveniently trying to make himself look as small as possible. 

However, when it the outstanding insult was thrown, the insulted puffed up in anger, snarling their own insult in retaliation, “I didn’t do shit to you! The fuck you mean ‘mangy piece of fur’? Better look in the mirror, ‘cause I ain’t the one that sat on the fucking couch for a month getting fat! And all ‘cause he didn’t get to play in the goddamn sandbox for a little while, boo hoo,” Rue’s interaction was nothing short of a challenge to an all out fist fight, nevermind a petty insult war. Sly readied himself to stand and throw a few good punches, while Rue practically tried to jump the couch if Maria’s paws hadn’t grabbed his tail.

“That’s enough!” Bentley finally snapped, “Murray, take the four of them upstairs, will you? I thought everyone was going to be civilized enough to handle this conversation, but  _ obviously _ I was wrong.” His hand flicked towards the stairs, ending the squabble with entirely too much ease.

Murray nodded and completed the task without hesitation. All of them were cautious as they walked around Sly towards the stairwell, except Rue who stormed away and out of sight up the stairs. Murray was the caboose of the train, and only glanced back at the remaining adults in the living room before disappearing through the floor. Arguing could be heard through the ceiling; obviously, nobody had been pleased with the conviction Sly now held.

“Are you crazy?” Carmelita snapped. “If you honestly believe we’re replacing you, your  _ last _ problem is our request for you stay here. Are you so dense that you can’t understand  _ why _ we’re asking you to stay? How about we don’t want to see you hurt on this mission, or ever again. You heard what the Guru said, we can’t change the past this time!”

Sly’s heart didn’t soften to her words. He crossed his arms, glaring at Carmelita with fire behind his eyes. “That’s not your decision to make! I choose whether or not my life is put on the line. It’s been that way longer than you have even known me for. I don’t expect to change that now. If you two haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a house pet awaiting your instructions.”

She was silent for a moment, eyes narrowing and shoulders dropped low. Her next words were laced with a venom he had not heard in her voice in a long time. The last time she spoke to him like this, he had lied to her about having amnesia.

“Fine, you stupid ring-tail! See what I care if your brains are smeared all over the pavement! Just don’t think I’m saving you from your own demise,” Carmelita spat, standing up and stalking out of the living room. Before she disappeared up the stairs, she threw her last comment over her shoulder, “I can’t believe I saved you from that stupid desert. I should have left you dead like we fucking found you the  _ first  _ time.”

Sly blinked, anger easing into confusion. What had she meant about leaving him the first time? They had gone back, sure, but none of them had ever detailed their experience in ancient Egypt to him. Her exit left Bentley and Sly alone. He let his fur lie flat before turning to his best friend. Bentley didn’t look happy, but didn’t ignore him. Sometimes, Bentley had more to say than any of them ever would. This was one of those times. “Bentley-”

His question wasn’t even allowed to be heard. Bentley’s voice held no emotion as he cut Sly off.

“I’m really glad you truly can’t remember what happened in Egypt at all, I really am, but some of us couldn’t forget even if we wanted to. I’m sure it’s all good with you that if Carmelita hadn’t been on a job in Egypt that we wouldn’t have known where to look for you in the first place. As much as you say you hated your ancestors from that time, Slytunkhamen did you a  _ pretty  _ big favor by leaving a message for us to find,” Bentley said, shaking his head, “Carmelita’s the reason we found you  _ and _ the reason we were able to bring you back.”

“Not this again,” Sly sighed. He took a deep breath and rubbing his face. When he came back to Bentley, he tossed his hands up in defeat. “Instead of holding this above my head, maybe you should just tell me what happened so I know what I’ve felt guilty over for the past  _ month _ .”

Bentley’s silence was long and eerie. His eyes bore into Sly’s own, making his skin prickle with unease. Part of Sly wished he could take back his request, but Bentley’s anger would not let him. His friend spoke, slow and even, “When we found you, you had already been killed. Whatever trouble you had gotten in had already run its course. We found another Cooper, the one you hate so much, and asked for any ounce of help he could give. Thankfully, he understood the problem and gave us an item to travel on, not to mention an explanation for what was happening. You had become a victim of Clockwerk’s first plan to kill the Cooper lineage, held up and hypnotized to try and kill anyone who got in his, and by proxy, your way. We were going to bring you back to our time period to try and test for a way to break the curse, but things got rough…”

“And?” Sly prompted, ears falling in fear of Bentley’s next sentence.

Bentley took in a breath. “And you attacked us, specifically Carmelita. She had to kill you to protect herself...more than once. Every time you were mere inches from ripping her throat out, Sly. The woman who loved you,  _ loves _ you, watched you die in her arms over and over again. It wasn’t easy for  _ any _ of us. That’s why you don’t remember it, because you can’t and never will . But we can, and in vivid detail.”

For the first time in the conversation, Sly felt guilty for his rudeness. It was slowly forming in his head, the reasons everyone had been so careful around him. Sly’s fingers crossed the freshly healed skin on his side. This had been the last resort for their plan to get him back, then. In his heart, he had known what the injury had been; he’d been shot by a shock pistol enough times to know what had happened. They–no,  _ Carmelita _ –had shot him in a last ditch effort to save him. Sly’s gaze fell to the floor, trying desperately to ignore the nausea creeping into his throat.

Of course they were scared of him going on this mission.

“And another thing, Sly,” Bentley said, “day and night, she stayed at your bedside until you woke up. Carmelita was sure, after all our trouble to get you back, it wasn’t going to be enough unless she was there to pull you through. Days and days, even though the doctors had told her not to hope so hard for you pulling through, she stayed by your side,  _ for you _ . We’ve given ourselves to you, body and soul. Isn’t that enough?”

Sly couldn’t answer. Dense silence fell between the two of them and the arguing from upstairs filled his ears. He could hear each individual’s voice; the kids were yelling, and Murray and Carmelita were trying to calm them down. This whole charade was for him. New members, eyes on every continent, even new technology holding the key and combination to every problem and distressed ancestor of  _ Cooper _ lineage. Every mission had been for Sly from the beginning. Killing Clockwerk, stopping the Klaww Gang, even saving the Cooper vault from being violated by a madman–everything had been for him.

“I...I never thought about it like that. Bentley, I––” Sly managed, mouth dry and chest tight with sadness.

“We know, Sly, we know,” Bentley answered, wheeling towards the doorway. He stopped, not looking back. “We leave at midnight. Since you’re going to be so adamant about it, there’s no reason you shouldn’t go with us. I’d get some air, if I were you, before we’re stuck in the van for god knows how long. And apologize to Carmelita and Rue while you’re at it; you need all of them on your side, especially her.”

With that, he left Sly to his own thoughts. His arms fell and his hands sat in his lap in utter defeat. What had he become? A cowardice monster with no end, that’s what. After everything he’d done, after everything he had tried to do to save his family legacy and himself, he’d forgotten how to take care of his friends, his only family, and cast them away like filth. Absolutely pathetic, Sly thought bitterly, you’ve become exactly what you feared at night. 

But yet, he could fix it. He could tell them how much he cared for them, how much he loved each and every one of them. And now four people who didn’t even know him had pledged their allegiance to his gang, his  _ family _ without demanding their loyalty. This was their choice, and he was dismissing their very existence. With a heavy sigh, Sly sat back and closed his eyes. 

He had a lot of apologizing to do.

 


End file.
